Miss you, love you
by Impassive Tears
Summary: Tweek and Craig have some serious issues.


"What are they doing?" Token sighed, rocking back onto the wall along with his best friend as they watched their other friends kiss like their lips were stuck together with glue. Seriously strong PVA glue. Clyde rolled his eyes, not even venturing to avert his eyes from his phone for a minute.

"Ignore it. They're weird like that. Like the world will implode and that's their final goodbye, or something. Whatever." Clyde told his Twitter feed and Token nodded, doing his best not to stare at his former friends. He said former, because, well, Token had barely seen them since they began dating. Now he saw what they were doing, and he was traumatised.

"Come on. Class, man." Token muttered, slinging his designer bag onto his other shoulder, alternating between the two bones to give them some relief of the mass of books and other things. Clyde huffed, as if Token was representing school itself, but slipped his phone into his right sneaker – to keep it bluntly hidden from the staff – and walked off, not pausing to wait for Token. Normally, the wealthy teen would be pissed at the selfish action, but he was trying desperately to have some distance between him and Clyde at that moment, so they wouldn't end up like _them_.

_Them_, of course, would be Craig and Tweek. Tweek and Craig. Inseparable from the moment they met in Nursery, and their connection had never once been broken; other people and things never swayed their inclination towards the other. The transition from platonic life partners to romantic life partners had been a natural one, with almost no drama emitting from it all. The minute Craig realised his love for Tweek, or perhaps it was Tweek who realised his love for Craig, he instantly flat out relayed the information to his best friend. No prizes for the results of which.

Craig had Tweek up against the lockers, their fingers in each-other's hair as they kissed, their eyes closed swiftly, like they also were when they made love. The bell rang, and they pulled away, both of their tongues peeking out to wipe away the evidence. They held each-other's gaze for a moment, then simultaneously sighed, and parted considerably, a foot between them.

"I'll wait for you." Craig promised, and it was said with such severity that it would not be ignorant to think it was a section of an MP3 taken from the tragic ending of a movie, where the man bids farewell to his love as they embark on some incredible feat. Though, it may have been like that for them. Spending two periods without the other seemed, indeed, like some incredible feat.

"I'll s-see you." Tweek whispered, in a devastating way. The tone of his sentence would bring tears to, well, someone's like Craig's eyes. Someone stoic, apathetic, and who didn't know Tweek. Yet, that was merely unspeakable. If Craig had never met Tweek… the phrase was taboo, and vice versa if Tweek had never met Craig.

Then, they left the other.

* * *

"Fuck, I missed you." As normal, Tweek reprimanded Craig for the unnecessary profanity, but with the urge of an irritated rabbit, for even Tweek with his colossal flame for Craig would never be so wild, returned the affectionate phrase, save for the swear, and bang, they were back to kissing, yet again.

Unfortunately, they weren't out of the woods quite yet. Alas, it was only a short while until they had to get back to lessons, another 2 hours of torture without their lover. In case of the reader's lack of insight into what the symptoms of their conniption issues would be, their reactions would be equivalent to shutting a gigantic creature inside a small room lined with knifes and fire; inevitable torture.

Tweek's trauma cut close to whenever he was on caffeine withdrawal, but at the same time, so far. He would tremble, but not his usual gentle body convulsions. No, he shook like an angry guy. Somehow on his period. With fire on his balls. And a picture of Justin Beiber permanently stuck to his hand.

((**Disclaimer: The author bears no resentment or hate towards Justin Beiber, just healthy humour that casually involved the aforementioned.))**

Craig? There was only so much such an "emotionless" boy was susceptible to, but it weighed up to a lot, if you monitored him closely. He was so filled with rage, with annoyance, that he couldn't just walk straight out of that goddamn classroom and hold Tweek, just hold him, that a nerve in his brain set off and triggered his favourite finger to pop right up for the duration of his hell. Typically, he would be sent straight to the counsellor's office, and that cut into lunchtime, too, and he sure as hell couldn't take missing spending time with Craig. Thus, the benefits of having pockets came into light.

* * *

Finally, finally, the school day was over. Though Craig walked calmly and slowly with his usual, slightly unhealthy deprivation of empathy, he was consumed with anticipation to see his boyfriend. Tweek, likewise, though his feelings were characteristically displayed as he rushed to their shared locker – could you imagine their stuff _not _in the same place? – and met with Craig after such an agonising wait.

There, after patiently tidying away their things and packing away the essentials, they left the school premises. That night, they were going to Craig's. They didn't rush straight into the more pleasurable aspects of their relationship, because there was work to be done, and like hell if they were going to take a break from forcing their partner to do it. They needed each-other to live up to their expectations, try everything with the utmost will and confidence and, at the end of it all, make the other proud with a sound education behind them. Only then, would they proceed.

Oh, and each moment was a testimonial of their passion, expressed through the words that had blinded them together in the dawn of their love, yet a development from the breach of the line between acquaintances and enemies. As they touched each other, vows were traded. As they shook and trembled and held one another, they shared confessions and secrets. On the cusp of bliss, they yelled each other's name, in a manner only one speaking to a divine being would use.

It was odd. It was weird. It didn't make sense, for two souls to be so matched, so brittle without the other, but it was true, and it was real. It was true for your neighbours across the street too, who just got married and had a baby, or those cats you saw licking at each other delicately the other day, and someday,_ someday_, I swear it, it will be true for you.

* * *

**Okay, I swear, this was meant to be some freak****ing hilarious parody of how close they appear to be, and I round up with this corny piece of f – **_**ferrets.**_


End file.
